For Angela Nicholls, every day she wakes without her husband Ross is made worse by the morning headlines.

"Nearly every day there is another British soldier dead in Afghanistan or in Iraq," she says. "It's just a quick mention and then the news moves on. But there are whole families left behind."

Today, almost exactly a year after Lance Corporal Ross Nicholls died serving with the Household Cavalry, she joins the Daily Mirror's campaign for a special medal to be struck for all those killed or injured in Iraq and Afghanistan.

"It would be something for the kids to hold and know how proud everyone was of their daddy and what he did in Afghanistan," she says. "It would also be proof of how brave he was - so they know it's not just me saying it because I loved him so much."

She has only a few treasured photos of Ross with their children, Cameron, three, and 15-month-old Erin, who was just three weeks old when her father left for Afghanistan.

"There are so many dead who deserve that recognition," she says. "And the wounded, too. Trooper Martyn Compton was very badly burned in the same incident that killed Ross. He has shown so much courage and deserves recognition, too."

Ross, 27, who belonged to Prince Harry's regiment, the Blues and Royals, was in a convoy in the north of Helmand Province when it was ambushed by Taliban fighters on August 1 last year.

He and two other soldiers - Lt Ralph Johnson and Captain Alex Eida - died instantly when a bomb ripped apart their armoured vehicle.

"I don't understand how, in the Queen's Honours List, people receive medals being a pop star but not for dying trying to help people and fight for their country," Angela, 31, says.

After almost 12 years in the army, Afghanistan was to be Ross's farewell tour. He'd already completed one tour of the region and wanted a future where he saw more of his family.

"He had resigned from the army but he was a professional," Angela says. "When they asked him to do a last tour, he went."

Even so, Ross was desperately worried about leaving his wife so soon after a caesarean and with two small children, and went to great pains to make sure Angela had everything she needed.

"When he was away I'd send him parcels once a fortnight," says Angela, a former soldier who had served in Afghanistan herself and also completed tours of Kosovo. "They were essentials and little treats. But Ross didn't want me having to go to the shops for him when I had so much to do looking after two little ones."

His solution was to buy everything he might need while he was away and divide it into equal parcels, so all Angela had to do was tuck in a letter or a photo of the kids and take the package to a post office.

"It was typical of him," she says. "But when he died I still had all these parcels left..." She looks away. "I didn't know what to do with them so I've put them up in the loft."

Angela will never forget the moment she saw the shadows of two men in suits at the door of their flat in a Central London barracks. "I knew instantly," she says. "I had never thought about Ross not coming home and then I knew he wasn't."

It was six weeks before Angela could bury him. "The bodies of all three men were left after the attack, until men from his regiment could go in and recover them. Then there were post-mortems and finally we were given his body."

Two of the survivors of the mission - to secure a supply route - won medals for their heroism.

Angela realised just how dangerous it had become in Afghanistan. "By the time Ross went, I knew it had become really risky. But, even so, I wasn't worried for him more than any other tour - maybe because my own memories of Afghanistan were positive."

Stationed in Kabul, she remembers a desperate woman trying to push her baby into her hands, hoping she'd be able to give him a better life in Britain. "People were mostly friendly," she recalls, "although men did stare at women in uniforms."

Angela left the army so that she could start a family. By the time Ross resigned, the couple had two small children and he wanted to enjoy them growing up. "Ross came from an army family and loved it. But he also loved being a dad. He was so brilliant with our children. I had caesareans with both so he had done it all - changed their first nappies, made their bottles. He loved them so much."

The couple were even looking forward to having their first family holiday together. "We'd been married six years and never even had a honeymoon," says Angela. "And we had to postpone our wedding because we were both deployed to Kosovo."

She and Ross met at the Krefeld base in Germany in 1997. After a six-month relationship, he got down on one knee at the mess bar in front of all their friends.

"He'd meant to do it over a special meal but was egged on by his mates, who all started cheering," Angela says. "But then he took me out for dinner and proposed properly a second time."

August 12 should have been their seventh wedding anniversary. Instead, Angela spent August 1 commemorating the first anniversary of Ross's death with a ceremony at his graveside attended by close friends and members of his regiment.

"We spent a lot of time talking about Ross and the sort of man he was," Angela says. "The lads who had served with him really valued his expertise in signals and the fact he was a bit older. He had a dry sense of humour and they enjoyed bantering with him. They also said they felt safe with him."

This year, on Remembrance Sunday, Angela will take her place at the cenotaph with other widows of war. "It's important for younger people to be involved as well as all the widows from the other wars," she says. "I hope it will make people realise that it's young men who are dying now."

Since Ross died, Angela has moved into the home in Milton Keynes, Bucks, they had chosen to start their new life in. "Ross never lived here but he chose it," she says. "We put an offer in before he went to Afghanistan, preparing for when he came out of the army for good."

She misses him so much. "We had so much fun together. We used to laugh a lot and call each other names. We share the same dry sort of humour. That was what we liked about each other at the beginning."

Angela points to the special plaque presented to her by D Squadron of the Household Cavalry, with Ross's personal effects framed under glass. His belt buckle glitters and the flag that covered his coffin is folded into a neat triangle.

There are five medals - two for Afghanistan, one for Iraq, one for Kosovo, one to commemorate the Golden Jubilee. The Nicholls' household is not short of medals, with the three won by Angela - Afghanistan, Kosovo and the Golden Jubilee - framed on a mantelpiece, too.

"But this isn't just about having a medal," Angela says. "It's about having something special to commemorate the way that Ross died.

"I have so many thoughtful mementos from his comrades but there is no specific medal. As my children get older I would love to have something to show them that says their father made the ultimate sacrifice for a reason.

"For those injured, it's a way of thanking them for their bravery and the fact they will have to live with those injuries for the rest of their lives. For those not coming home, it's a way of showing they are not forgotten."

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